


what you wish for

by thragedy



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Royalty, Banter, Horseback Riding, Love vs Duty, M/M, Mutual Pining, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Rating May Change, Unresolved Tension, if this is horny coded thats on johnny for being hot, suppressing ur feelings!
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-18
Updated: 2021-03-18
Packaged: 2021-03-18 19:55:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29739081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thragedy/pseuds/thragedy
Summary: Donghyuck's life is in the palace, reading and writing and being tutored day in and day out. And it's not that he doesn't enjoy his studies—in fact, his mind is always hungry for more information, eager to learn about the world he has been born into...he would just like to see and experience it as well. But he is the extra son; he is the one who will fill the empty shoes left behind if something should ever happen to his older siblings, and this means that nothing can ever happen to him.And if nothing ever happens to him, nothing will everhappen. Gods above, sometimes all Donghyuck wants is for something to just fucking happen.
Relationships: Lee Donghyuck | Haechan/Suh Youngho | Johnny
Comments: 3
Kudos: 14
Collections: rsp exchange!





	what you wish for

**Author's Note:**

  * For [hyufull (THPuppeteer)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/THPuppeteer/gifts).



> vicky my beloved...i hope that this 1/3rd of a fic finds you well <333 sorry it is just that even after all this time but i actually already have a portion of the next chapter written, just not finished yet bc timing and writing out of order and my brain being uncooperative and everything. also yeah...i did get carried away writing this lol what can i say the royalty and the johnhyuck and the vibes were just doing it for me & i have this fun thing where i am Incapable of Shutting The Fuck Up so theres that too. anyway i hope you like this and it hits at least a good few of the right marks for you!! god cant give his sexiest soldier ONLY the hardest battles, right ;)

Donghyuck has only just come to a stop in the east courtyard when Johnny steps into view on the opposite end. There’s no time for Donghyuck to catch his breath before it’s stolen, no time for him to prepare for the smile that lights up Johnny’s face when he sees Donghyuck waiting for him. There is just this.

"My prince," Johnny calls as he draws closer, crossing the courtyard and coming to a stop a few paces away from Donghyuck. “You summoned me?"

Donghyuck nods, still taking in the sight of Johnny – his fitted riding pants, tall boots, shirt loose but cinched at the waist – careful not to let too much show on his face. "I did." He purses his lips and all but stares Johnny down even though Johnny stands head and shoulders above him in those heeled boots.

To his credit, Johnny barely bats an eye. He's too used to Donghyuck’s behavior. "Do you wish to ride?" 

Donghyuck resists the urge to swallow. Of course he does. "Why else would I summon you?"

Johnny shrugs. "You're quite fond of your games, are you not?" he asks, a brow raised, not in question, but in something closer to accusation. He's very brave, for a royal groom. Donghyuck supposes it's his own fault—he doesn't have the same iron-hard look to him that his father does. He cannot cannot drive fear into another man's heart with daggers for eyes. But then he's never tried that with Johnny anyway; he doesn't want Johnny to look at him and see only power. 

He wants Johnny to see more, always more.

"I suppose I am," Donghyuck says evenly, "but you know better than anyone how I like to ride, don't you?"

Johnny takes a measured breath and Donghyuck smiles. Johnny nods.

"Will you lead the way, then?" Donghyuck asks, blinking innocently up at Johnny.

"Of course," Johnny says. He offers his arm to Donghyuck and Donghyuck takes it even though he's entirely capable of walking himself to the stables. He knows this and Johnny knows this, and he still leads his prince regardless.

"I hope I didn't call you from anything important," Donghyuck says. It's meant to be coquettish, a sort of challenge, but it comes out a bit too honest. He calls for Johnny often, and wonders if Johnny ever resents it, even just the slightest bit.

Johnny shakes his head, still leading Donghyuck across the courtyard, heading for the stables. "Not at all. I am always at your call, my prince."

Donghyuck grips Johnny's arm just the slightest bit tighter, and he lets himself smile because he knows Johnny's eyes are trained ahead of them. Still, he says, "Always a sweet-talker, aren't you?"

"Just for you," Johnny says. The heels of his boots click against the flat stones underfoot.

"Sure," Donghyuck laughs to distract himself from the tight feeling in his chest. He doesn't want to think about how he wants the words to be true. Doesn't want to think about the fact that Johnny gives him what he wants because it's his job, because Donghyuck may be smaller, but in the grand scheme of things he has more power in his pinky than Johnny has in all the thick muscle of his arms, his sculpted stomach, his impossibly strong legs.

"Where do you wish to ride, my prince?" Johnny asks after they've passed out of the courtyard and stepped into the grassy stretch of land between them and the stables. The distraction is a relief.

"I don't know," Donghyuck admits. "I think I would just like to _go."_ In truth, he's been feeling cooped up. His siblings have been busy, Doyoung has been harder on him than usual – as he must, but still – and for the last week, Mark has looked close to collapsing, overwhelmed with additional tasks while covering for Taeyong’s sick attendant. And so, deprived of all his usual companionship and bogged down with his never-ending studies, Donghyuck has been cooped up and lonely. Of course he would call for Johnny, then. As soon as his afternoon had opened up he had raced this way, slowing only at the last minute so that he would not appear disheveled or out of breath upon meeting his groom.

Donghyuck feels Johnny's eyes land on him, feels the considering, contemplative look on his face. He keeps his eyes resolutely trained ahead. The grass parts under their feet and they're nearly to the stables.

"Well," Johnny says after that moment of silence, of thoughtfulness, "I shall go wherever you go, my prince. Please only lead where I can follow.”

“Of course,” Donghyuck says. Truthfully, he cannot imagine _wanting_ to go anywhere Johnny couldn’t follow, at least not while they’re out riding together. Not when Johnny’s long hair is catching the wind and whipping wildly around him, and Donghyuck wants to sit and marvel at the sight almost as much as he wants to urge his horse faster and race past him like they’re flying on the wind together. 

These are not things he says, though. He does not think it is allowed. 

Or perhaps he does not want to know what Johnny would say in response. 

They reach the stables. Donghyuck lets go of Johnny’s arm and they fall into a familiar routine. Donghyuck’s favored mare is being brushed by a stableboy when they enter, and he rises to bow and moves as if to give up the mare to Donghyuck, but Donghyuck lifts a hand and shakes his head. She is being cared for as she should; he will saddle another horse for himself. 

Johnny’s mare is a rich maple, fast and familiar and steady. Johnny strokes her mane gently before preparing a bag for their excursion, and Donghyuck lets himself watch for only a moment before busying himself as well. His steed is black and gray and white, colors all splotched together at the rear. He does not know this horse as well as his own mare, but he will be able to ride regardless. 

He does not think the horses care about the power that comes from royalty in the slightest, but they respond well to calm assurance, to kindness – as any creature does – and Donghyuck prepares easily for the ride. Before long, he and Johnny are both leading their horses out of the stables, stepping into the sunlight and clear air once more. 

Donghyuck mounts his horse, feet in the stirrups, and Johnny follows shortly after. The air is warm, but Donghyuck is appropriately dressed as he must always be – prepared to be in the wind and the shade after the sun – and Johnny had slipped a jacket on over his shirt before leaving the stables as well. They’re perfectly fine as they head off through the grass, leaving the stables behind. 

The palace grounds stretch a great distance in all directions, but Donghyuck and Johnny make good time passing through them. The sun shines down bright and warm and Donghyuck feels sweat bead on his skin although the air is remarkably pleasant. The grass below their horses seems to gleam, and the tops of the trees in the distance are practically glowing in the light. Donghyuck glances sideways at Johnny and he looks like a sculpture come to life—tall and proud and beautiful. His hair shifts in a light breeze and the sun dances over all the high points of his face, touching his skin with an ease Donghyuck envies. 

Maybe if he were not a prince… but no, Donghyuck knows that he cannot even begin to imagine a life without the privilege he has been afforded by his birth. Or the responsibility. For now, though, as he and Johnny ride together, he can put that all aside. Out of the palace, with no one but Johnny and the horses and the trees and earth, Donghyuck can simply be himself. Still a prince, yes, but more than that as well. In the wind like this, he thinks he can be free.

“The hunting grounds are not in use today, yes?” Johnny asks, pulling Donghyuck out of his own head.

“Yes,” Donghyuck answers. His father is aging and his siblings don’t have the same love for the sport, so the grounds are free more often than not. It has been good for the wildlife and the woodland growth. It is good for Donghyuck and Johnny as well, because the woods are lovely even if they are not quite in full bloom yet, and above all they are a kind of shield, a veil of green and brown to hide the two of them away from the rest of the world.

There is a sense of peace in the woods that Donghyuck does not feel many other places.

"Will you have my head if I ask what you're getting away from today, my prince?" Johnny asks as they near the treeline.

Donghyuck laughs; the idea of him having Johnny's head for _anything_ is simply absurd. "It would take much more than a simple question to earn you a beheading. It's quite an extreme punishment."

"Of course, what a silly mistake for me to make. May I ask, then?"

"Of course," Donghyuck echoes with a small grin.

"What are we leaving behind today?" Johnny asks.

Donghyuck keeps his eyes forward, hands on the reins. "You know how the castle is: very big and very empty. Everyone is always quite busy and there's not really time for... well, me." Donghyuck isn't next in line, isn't in high command in the military, isn't much of anything except the youngest. He's just the safety, the backup.

Donghyuck's life is in the palace, learning day in and day out. And it's not that he doesn't enjoy his studies—in fact, his mind is always hungry for more information, eager to learn about the world he has been born into, and he would like to _see_ it as well. But he is the extra son. He is the one who will fill the empty shoes left behind if something should ever happen to his older siblings, and this means that nothing can ever happen to _him._

And if nothing ever happens to him, nothing will ever _happen._ Gods above, sometimes all Donghyuck wants is for something to just fucking _happen._ But Donghyuck knows it's silly to voice such complaints; who has any sympathy in their hearts for a lonely, caged prince?

"Well," Johnny says, once again pulling Donghyuck from his thoughts, "I am always happy to have time for you, my prince."

The trees loom overhead and their horses carry them into the shade, under the cover over the canopy. Donghyuck looks sideways at Johnny and smiles. He'll take him at his word. It may be Johnny's job to serve him, but he's not in the habit of lying.

"Thank you," Donghyuck tells him, and he means it. "I'm sure my problems seem quite trivial to you."

Johnny is silent for a minute, and when Donghyuck chances a sidelong glance his way, he finds a contemplative look on his face. "I do not think I would say that," Johnny finally starts. "Forgive me. You are indeed privileged, but it is only human to wish for more, is it not? For many years I had great freedom and loving companionship, but little security or comfort. It seems to me that for many years you have had great security and comfort, but little freedom and companionship. As humans, do we not find our greatest peace if we achieve a balance of both?"

Donghyuck's lips part and he stares at Johnny, looking evenly back at him. Something awful like longing swirls in Donghyuck’s chest, and he feels impossibly light and yet tied tight to the ground all at once, like he might be pulled apart, split in half. His voice does not come out nearly strong enough when he asks, "Johnny, are you sure you shouldn't be one of my tutors rather than this?"

Johnny lets out a bright laugh. "I am," he says. "I was not educated for something like that. All my knowledge is with the stables."

Donghyuck continues to eye him. "I do not think that is true; you are quite knowledgeable about many things, even if you did not get the same education. I think that perhaps it is your different background that offers you greater insights."

The smile Johnny offers him then makes the swirling in Donghyuck's chest turn to a sharp twisting, almost painful for how gentle and caring the look on Johnny's face is. Donghyuck breathes and forces it to loosen, forces himself to let the warmth of Johnny's smile simply wash over him. This can only hurt him if he lets it, and he enjoys Johnny's company far too much to let his own wants sour their time together.

"You are very insightful yourself, my prince." The look on Johnny's face shifts, his lips quirking up higher at the corners. Donghyuck recognizes it as mirth. "Impressive, for someone who spends so much time in that too-big, too-empty palace."

Donghyuck feels his own lips tick up in a sharp grin. "You are so kind, Johnny. Do you think my insights will grow the farther away we get from home?" He doesn't wait for an answer, urging his horse to move faster between the trees and put a greater distance between them and the castle.

He hears Johnny's indignant shout from behind him, but he keeps his pace until his horse is cantering through the woods, the wind twisting through his hair and rushing over his face. The sound of hooves beating against the ground fills his ears as he guides his horse through the sparse trees ahead of them, sunlight dappling through the branches and twigs snapping underfoot.

Laughter bubbles in Donghyuck's chest, climbing up his throat and leaping from his mouth as he hears Johnny trying to catch him again. He drags the forest air into his lungs and relishes the feeling of being free, being alive. This is not a great adventure like Yubin often used to recount to him when he was younger and stories were all he got of the outside world, nor is it training for battle as Taeyong frequently must, but it is something more than a velvet chair and a book chaining Donghyuck to it.

It is something real and wild, and this is everything Donghyuck dreams of from his beautiful, gilded birdcage.

When Johnny pulls up even with Donghyuck, he doesn't call for Donghyuck to stop, but rides along with him, long hair flying back in the wind. It makes Donghyuck want to run even faster. It makes him want to _fly._ For that, though, they'll need open fields; they'll need to venture past the hunting grounds and out of the woods, heading all the way to the grassy plains on the other side.

And so, because there is no one to call Donghyuck back, they go.

As the trees grow thicker and the horses tire, they slow to a trot again, but still they carry on, covering ground and weaving through trees and around berry bushes as small animals skitter through the forest all around them. Everything is alive and moving, even the light flickers in and out over Donghyuck’s head. It’s everything the polished wood and stone of the palace isn’t—messy and chaotic and ever-changing. It’s perfect. 

Donghyuck hums to pass the time in between conversation, and he makes it through four different nursery rhymes from his childhood before the trees begin to thin again and they come out on the other side of the woods. A great open field lies before them, and Donghyuck can’t help the smile that takes over his face. He casts a sidelong glance at Johnny and finds a serene look on his face as he takes in the sight of so much green and blue dancing in the wind. 

“Would you like a rematch?” Donghyuck asks him; last time they’d come out together, they’d raced. In fact, they do so most times they ride together. So far Donghyuck has a hair-thin lead over Johnny, and he intends on gloating about it until Johnny finally beats him again. They’ve been trading the victories back and forth ever since Donghyuck came of age and his parents finally let him venture beyond the palace grounds, and Donghyuck likes to think of it as a dance between the two of them: leading and following, exchanging roles, but always moving together, always for the same end goal.

“Don’t I always?” Johnny asks. Of course, because after all this time, the offer is more to set the stage than a real question. 

Donghyuck grins. “Yes. No matter how many times you lose to me, you’re always eager to do it again.”

“And how many times have you lost to me, my prince?” Johnny asks. There’s an innocence in his voice that Donghyuck can hear right through. It makes a sharp thrill run up his spine—at the palace, Johnny is the picture of formality, but the farther away they get, the more that slips into familiarity. Into a comfort that keeps Donghyuck awake some nights, wondering. 

“Fewer than I have won,” Donghyuck counters with practiced ease. “That’s what matters, isn’t it?”

Johnny just smiles and urges his horse to move again. As much as he loves the playful war of words, he knows how to let his actions speak for themselves just as well. 

Donghyuck guides his horse after Johnny’s, and they head towards a worn down patch of grass at the far edge of the field. They have no regard for the rigid rules that _real_ competition has, no need for set markers or anything of the sort; half the fun is playing by eye and ear and arguing over close calls. Donghyuck does his best not to think about how _impertinent_ it is. How his family would never approve of the way he lets – _encourages,_ really — Johnny speak to him when they play like this. When they’re this far from the confines of the palace, it doesn’t matter. This is an entirely different world.

Before they do anything, Johnny must dismount and unbuckle the supply bag from his mare. It doesn’t weigh much – just holds a small blanket and a satchel of food and water – but it’s bulky and bothers the horse at greater speeds. Johnny removes it and sets it down a safe distance away. He tosses his jacket on top of it as well, and then hauls himself back up into the saddle.

Johnny brings his mare into place and Donghyuck draws even with him. They exchange a look before facing forward, eyes narrowing in on the far end of the field. “I’ll let you call it,” Donghyuck says. Cheeky.

Johnny lets out a laugh and then, in the same breath, shouts, _“Go!”_

They’re off. Donghyuck urges his horse on, and they kick up dirt and grass as they pick up speed and fly across the open expanse of land. The wind whistles in Donghyuck ears, whips through his hair and clothes, lashes at the skin of his face, and he resists the urge to cheer as they gallop forward. He’s ever-aware of Johnny’s presence just ahead of him, and his existence in the corner of Donghyuck’s eyes pushes him on. Adrenalin sings through his veins, and as if in the blink of an eye, the wall of trees up ahead is hurtling towards him and he’s forced to tug the reins, slowing to a stop just before they reach the far forest. 

The pounding of hooves against the ground and of his heartbeat in his ears fades from a roar to a low drumbeat, and Donghyuck exhales like he hasn’t breathed at all in the time they were flying across the field. His horse whinnies and it’s like the rest of the world all comes back into focus at once. Johnny is still a few paces ahead of him, already turning his horse. There’s a victorious grin on his face that Donghyuck can’t contest.

“What were you saying about winning, my prince?” Johnny asks. The sun shines down on his face so he appears to glow, skin coated with a sheen of sweat, and eyes sparkling in the light. 

Donghyuck presses his tongue against the inside of his cheek. “We’ll have to go again—after the horses rest.”

Johnny’s smile just grows. “Whatever pleases you.”

Donghyuck rolls his eyes. It’s mostly for show, but he _would_ very much like to win their rematch. “I trust you remember that I am not with my mare today.”

“Of course,” Johnny says, like he knows exactly where this is going. (He does—they’ve done this dance before, too.)

“Truthfully, I would _hope_ you can beat me now, when the odds are already stacked in your favor,” Donghyuck tuts. Again, it’s more for the theatrics. There isn’t a drop of malice or true bitterness in his voice when he speaks to Johnny like this. Johnny knows this because he doesn’t back down; he meets Donghyuck head on.

“Indeed, it _would_ be unbelievably shameful of me to lose to a prince,” Johnny says in that same tone.

It feels almost as though they are performers in a play, reciting lines so they do not have to worry about what to say to each other. Donghyuck wonders for whose sake that is. He does not linger on that train of thought long.

“Shall we set up, then?” he asks, letting the charade drop.

Johnny’s smile softens. The curtains fall and even in the sunlight, they are in the dark solitude behind the closed curtains. The script has come to an end, the performance over. There’s freedom here now. Danger, too. But Donghyuck doesn’t dwell on that—it would do him no good.

They lead their horses back over to the spot where the wild grasses are beaten down, and Johnny dismounts. He walks his horse a short distance to the nearest tree and loosely attaches her to it. Donghyuck follows suit, dropping to the ground, feet in the grass as he brings his horse and ties her up a bit more securely; there is not the same bond of trust between them as Johnny has with his beloved mare. 

As Donghyuck walks back across the worn ground, Johnny undoes the bindings of the sack and pulls their blanket free. Donghyuck reaches him as he shakes it out, and wordlessly takes two edges from him to help spread it across the ground. Birds chirp overhead and Donghyuck sinks to his knees on the blanket, turning to watch the horses sniff at the grass underfoot. Behind him, he can hear the clink of a canister of water. It’s a strange thing to realize he can picture exactly what Johnny looks like, know _exactly_ what he’s doing even without looking.

Donghyuck turns back to him and finds him just as he expects: settling down across from Donghyuck, water and food at the ready. Johnny holds two peaches in his palm – Donghyuck does _not_ marvel that his hands are large enough to hold them both with ease – and he offers one to Donghyuck. Donghyuck accepts, still silent. He should say _thank you,_ but the words get caught in his throat.

“Lovely day to be out and about,” Johnny observes, setting the canister of water on the blanket between them.

Donghyuck nods. He takes a bite of the peach, the soft skin breaking easily between his teeth, sweet juice spurting into his mouth. He exhales through his nose, chews. The birds are still singing, the horses huffing a few meters away. Wind rustles through the leaves of the trees and stirs up the grass surrounding their small blanket. 

“Thank you for joining me,” Donghyuck says, after swallowing. He says it as though he would have been able to come here even without Johnny, as though Johnny is simply a company he has requested, and not the only reason he’s allowed to venture out into the world in the first place. As if Johnny isn’t his _chaperone,_ because his family still thinks him incapable of taking care of or looking out for himself. As if that isn’t what he’s been learning to do for years and years. 

It’s better like this. It’s easier for Donghyuck to indulge in the small fantasies of freedom. When he’s with Johnny all he wants is to forget the golden shackles wound tight around his wrists. It is true that he does not know how he would live any life other than this one, that he would likely be lost without his privilege, but times like these he can at least try to imagine how he could be if things were different. If _he_ were different. If he were somehow allowed even more from life.

“I am always happy to join you, my prince,” Johnny tells him. Donghyuck can hear the honesty in his voice, can recognize that look in his eyes that says _yes, this is the truth,_ and so he smiles. Johnny takes a bite of his own peach and Donghyuck must turn away again before his eyes track the trail of juice slipping past Johnny’s lips.

They sit in silence while they eat and drink. Donghyuck focuses on the taste of the peach on his tongue, on the sounds of the world around them. He tips his head back and looks up at the sky, so much bright blue stretching as far as the eye can see overhead. The weather is lovely indeed; Donghyuck is glad that he was able to get away today. He is glad that he gets to share this with Johnny, though he does not voice this. Some thoughts of his are too far from the script to say out loud. Donghyuck pulls the pit from his fruit and tosses it into the woods.

“What did I call you from today?” Donghyuck asks, finally. He’s nearly done eating now, fingers and palm sticky with juice. He’s quick to stop the drips before they reach the bracelets on his wrist. He looks at Johnny and his mouth is as wet at Donghyuck’s hand, shiny in the light. Donghyuck takes measured breaths.

Johnny fixes him with a look he cannot quite parse. “I was at the stables, working, my prince. It is where I am meant to be when I am on call. You do not always need me, but there is always something to be done there.”

“And you… like it there? It is good work?” Too much hesitation bleeds through into Donghyuck’s tone and he hears a voice like his father’s in his head, scolding him. It is one thing to play with someone below his station, the voice says, but it is another thing entirely to appear _meek_ and _uncertain_ before them. How very un-princely. How improper, undignified of him. Donghyuck straightens his back as if this will save his image. 

The look on Johnny’s face changes, but it is still something Donghyuck cannot quite put together. He does not like this, doesn’t like not knowing. It makes him feel small, weak. He sets his jaw.

“I do like it,” Johnny says, voice softer than Donghyuck expects. “Very much, in fact. It is the best work I have had.”

Something smooths over in Donghyuck’s chest. The rigid line of his back eases and the muscles in his face relax. “Oh.” He purses his lips a moment. He’s not sure what he was expecting. “I am very glad to hear that.”

Johnny’s face softens and a hint of a smile tugs at his lips. Donghyuck lets out another breath. With the guarded look on Johnny’s face falling away, Donghyuck can begin to make better sense of his expressions once again.

“I’m happy to ease your mind, my prince.” Johnny hesitates. “Do you worry often?” Almost as soon as the words leave Johnny’s mouth, he seems to regret them. His face smooths over again, a mask of perfect politeness. “I apologize. That was improper of me.”

Donghyuck shakes his head quickly, desperate to wipe that fake calm off of Johnny’s face—far more desperate than he should be. “It’s all right, Johnny, please. You do not need to apologize to me.” He breathes carefully, watching Johnny for any changes. “I do. I do worry. Is it not _my_ job to do so?”

“I suppose,” Johnny says slowly. He presses his lips together in such a way that Donghyuck thinks he is holding something back, keeping something locked within himself. 

Donghyuck’s mouth curls down. He does not like things being kept from him. Not like this. He takes another measured breath. “What is it? You have another question, do you not?”

For a moment Johnny looks as though he may protest, but in another breath the moment passes and Johnny nods.

“Please ask,” Donghyuck says. He doesn’t mean for it to come out like an order, but he so hates the distance that seems to have sprung up between them that he might do more than he intends to be rid of it. 

“Is it good work?” Johnny asks, a low echo of Donghyuck’s own words. “Your job. Being a prince. You… you sometimes speak of it as though it is what you do, not what you are. Please forgive me if this is crossing a line.”

Donghyuck blinks, a bit taken aback. Does he really? In his own eyes he certainly _is_ a prince, because this fact of his life follows him wherever he goes. It is a gift and a weight he carries with himself. Always. It is something so integral to him that he cannot ever forget, except—

Oh. Donghyuck understands.

Except for when he is with Johnny. When he leaves the palace and the royal grounds behind and does not cease to be a prince but tries to become something _more_ as well. 

“I did not know I spoke like that,” Donghyuck admits. “I hope you alone have noticed this of me; I believe my family would not tell me as gently as you have. Thank you. It is… well, it is likely the only job I shall have because it _is_ what I am. That is all I am meant to be.” The words taste metallic on his tongue. He’s suddenly not sure he’ll be able to stomach another bite of the sweet peach in his hand.

These times when he is free – even for just a short while – to be a prince and _more,_ these times when he is with Johnny are something like a dream. As much as he wishes for them to stretch long like hot summer days, to become something far beyond what he knows is possible, at the end of each excursion he must always wake up once more. He is happy Johnny knows him like this, though; he may be one of the only people in the world who knows what Donghyuck is beyond what he must be.

Donghyuck may contain multitudes, but some parts of him simply must matter more than others. Gold is a heavy thing to carry on one’s head and shoulders, after all, and even the poorest know that the price of gold is far higher than it should be.

“I see,” Johnny says. He does not sound chided, as Donghyuck had worried, but he does not sound pleased either. There’s a hint of disappointment, even, in his voice. Like maybe Donghyuck’s answer is not what he had wanted to hear. The thought makes something familiar stir in Donghyuck’s chest, and he does his best to ignore it.

A part of him wants to ask why. Why does Johnny seem disappointed by shackles that are not his own? Why does he pay this much attention to the way Donghyuck speaks with him? What might these things mean? But again, Donghyuck does not think he is meant to ask. Does not think it is allowed of him. So he stays silent and finishes the last bite of his peach, trying to savor the food even though it seems to have lost its taste.

When Donghyuck has licked his lips clean and the rest of the sticky juice has dried to his skin, Donghyuck lies back on the blanket and looks up at the sky again. This is an improper act – letting himself be so open and vulnerable in front of someone who is not family – but it is not unfamiliar to them. It is just like everything else they do together: overly familiar but just what Donghyuck needs to settle his heart and bring a smile to his lips.

“What if we ride farther today?” he asks, still looking up, watching a puff of white float on the wind overhead.

“You wish to ride past here?” Johnny asks. 

There’s something about the tone of his voice that makes Donghyuck’s head tip to the side just enough to catch a glimpse of the look on Johnny’s face. It’s odd: Johnny is leaning back on his palms, and he is looking at the sky as well, but like he can sense Donghyuck’s gaze, his eyes flicker down to meet Donghyuck’s for a moment.

“Yes,” Donghyuck says. His voice comes out softer than he intends. He means to look away from Johnny but finds that he cannot force himself to move. “I do not wish to return just yet, and I fear I will grow restless just lying about here.”

“Mm,” Johnny hums, “but you look quite comfortable now.”

That _something_ that Donghyuck finds so difficult to be rid of rises in his chest again, pressing at the cage of his ribs like it wants to escape the confines of his body. Like there is something it wants to reach, but cannot. It makes him itch to rise, to run, to fly away.

Donghyuck exhales. “Now, perhaps, because I have just eaten and the horses are still resting. But you will have to take my word on this—I do not delight in sitting still for long stretches of time when I could be doing more.”

Johnny hums again. “Of course, my prince.” He lowers his gaze from the sky once more and this time, when his eyes meet Donghyuck’s, they linger.

“So?” Donghyuck asks. “After we have rested, may we go?”

“Your wish is my command,” Johnny says simply. There’s something like acceptance painted across his face, like he knows there is no way for him to say no or talk Donghyuck out of this. It’s probably true; Donghyuck can count on one hand the number of times Johnny has been able to convince him not to do something he truly wanted to do.

Donghyuck wonders, again, whether Johnny might resent this. Resent the power Donghyuck has over him, even if Donghyuck does his best to act like they are equals, to treat Johnny as such. There is no safe way to ask this, though, so Donghyuck curls his lips into a pout and watches the way Johnny’s face shifts in the light. “I wouldn’t want to put you out,” he says, hoping that even a hint of his sincerity will bleed into his tone for Johnny to pick up on.

It seems – or rather, Donghyuck lets himself hope – that it does, because Johnny’s lips twitch and then a smile spreads across his face. “You would not,” he assures Donghyuck. “It does not ever trouble me to ride with you. I dare say I enjoy it as much as you do.”

“Oh?” Donghyuck asks, showy pout forgotten. “That is quite a bit. Are you sure?”

Johnny nods, and that smile of his doesn’t falter. “You make very good company, my prince.” 

“Well, I am happy to hear that,” Donghyuck says, a smile creeping upon his own face. “You do as well.” He looks on at Johnny a moment longer, drinking in the sight of him, before turning back to the sky. There is something calming about looking up and seeing endlessness; after the confines of the palace, of ornate ceilings and walls closing in on Donghyuck as if they hope to trap him inside forever, the greatness of the outdoors makes him feel like he can breathe. 

Out here, he feels small, like perhaps every single action does not carry quite so much burden, does not need to be weighed and considered before it is simply done. Donghyuck often catches himself thinking that this – these moments away with Johnny that he has taken for himself like a child sneaking forbidden sweets – is this closest he may ever get to freedom. The wind on his skin and Johnny nearly close enough to touch—that is the most wild and free he may ever be.

Donghyuck does not know how long he lies there, watching the clouds float by, listening to the breeze rustle through the grass and the nearby forest. Time seems to run together like moving water as Donghyuck breathes in and out and takes in the sounds of the horses to his right, Johnny to his left. When Donghyuck’s legs begin to feel liquid from such little use, and his stomach has settled, and his skin – no, his very being, it seems – has begun to itch with the desire to move again, Donghyuck exhales deep through his nose and pushes himself up so he’s sitting.

Blood rushes from his head and he falls still as his vision goes spotty and white for a moment before clearing again as his body settles once more. Donghyuck blinks and Johnny is looking at him. He is silent. Expectant. Waiting for Donghyuck to wish something new into existence, to bend what little he can to his honest will.

“Shall we ride?” Donghyuck asks.

“Wherever you wish to go, my prince,” Johnny answers.

Donghyuck nods, small smile working its way back onto his face. The horses have rested, _they_ have rested. Donghyuck feels, just for a moment, like they could go _anywhere._ Do anything. But the moment passes and Donghyuck knows it is a silly notion. 

He hopes the flicker of desire, of want for something _more_ has not shown on his face, for he does not know what he would do if Johnny were to see everything he has done his best to ignore in himself. Does not know what would happen then, and because he does not know, he cannot prepare. And preparing is all Donghyuck ever does. It’s a funny thing, then, to long for the unknown and yet know that he would likely be overwhelmed, unsure of what to do in the face of drastic change. 

Perhaps that is why no matter how much he wishes for newness, for a _happening,_ he does not ever truly chase after such things. Perhaps he knows deep down that he cannot do more than he was built to, knows that he may be more than just a prince, but not _enough_ more for it to ever truly count. Or perhaps he is simply scared to give himself a chance of ever finding out.

“Shall we rematch before we leave?” Donghyuck asks. This is the safest thing for him to say. Well, the safest thing that will still grant him a bright rush to satiate some of his soul’s itching and leave him flushed and feeling truly alive in the sun as he loves to be.

Johnny considers him for a moment, and Donghyuck feels a spark of surprise that Johnny did not agree right away. “What would you say to a race without the horses? Just the two of us?” Johnny asks.

Donghyuck blinks up at him. The spark of surprise bursts into a flame in the pit of his stomach. “Surely you would have a great advantage there,” he counters, although he does not say no. “Would it bring you much satisfaction to win such an unfair competition?”

“I believe you underestimate yourself, my prince.” Johnny says without missing a beat.

“Is that so?” Donghyuck lets his eyes slip down from Johnny’s face, looking pointedly at his body and his impossibly long legs. When Donghyuck looks up, the confidence has not entirely left Johnny’s face, but it has been tinged pink. “Am I incorrect in noting that your strides will always be longer than mine?”

Johnny shakes his head.

“That you spend your days up and about while I spend mine locked within the halls of the palace and stuck in chairs?”

Again, Johnny does not contest him, so Donghyuck pushes on. 

“That you’ve been built for activity whereas I have been built for show?”

“Forgive me,” Johnny says at last, “but I do believe that is incorrect. Or rather, not _entirely_ correct.”

“Oh?” Donghyuck asks. Perhaps he is too intrigued by what Johnny might say next in explanation.

“Do you not ride just the same as I do? Practice with Prince Taeyong and Princess Yubin, as well as the knights? Do you not still chase Mark around the palace gardens even now that you are no longer boys?”

Donghyuck feels, all at once, like the sun has swooped in closer to the earth. He feels warm all over, flushed without exertion. He is silent two beats longer than he means to be. “I didn’t realize Mark was such a gossip,” he says with a light chuckle to cover the feeling rising in his chest once again.

Johnny laughs. “You should know that all the staff talk. Well, the pleasant ones, at least.”

This should scare Donghyuck. There are no secrets in the palace—too many eyes and ears and loose lips for anything to remain hidden for long. But Donghyuck finds he is not afraid of this. On some level he has always known that the staff talk, but it’s something different, something _nice_ to hear that Mark and Johnny speak of him. 

“So what do you speak of, then, when you talk?” Donghyuck asks, more eager than he should be to know.

Johnny raises a brow. “Do you think I will forget that you did not answer my question if you ask one of your own?”

Donghyuck crosses his arms with a huff. “Perhaps.” 

Johnny’s brow arches higher still, and Donghyuck huffs again, stubborn. He wants to know what Johnny talks about with others, with people who are not him. But Johnny does not crack; he is too accustomed to Donghyuck acting like this to be phased. He knows Donghyuck may bark often, but he rarely bites. 

When Donghyuck can stand it no longer, he narrows his eyes in a glare that has little real heat in it. “If I answer, will you?”

“Of course, my prince,” Johnny says with a patient smile. He sounds far too pleased. Donghyuck shouldn’t like that kind of insolence, but he does. It makes him feel like they’re something other – _more_ – than what they truly are.

“Fine,” Donghyuck huffs again for good measure. “You were correct, before.”

Johnny smiles wider. “So it is not quite so unfair a challenge, then? To request a race by foot.”

Donghyuck purses his lips. “One answer at a time. It is your turn now.”

Johnny laughs. “As you wish. I speak of many things with the other staff. The weather, the horses, the people, the state of things.”

“That is hardly an answer,” Donghyuck tells him. He wants to know something real. 

“Forgive me, but you asked a very broad question, my prince.” He does not sound very apologetic. He sounds like he’s nudging Donghyuck, leading him to a better question. Giving him an opportunity to ask what he truly wants to know and teasing him at the same time. 

“Indeed,” Donghyuck hums. He searches for just the right words. “When you speak with Mark...do the two of you gossip much about me?”

Light dances in Johnny’s eyes. “I wonder whether you are trying to lead me into giving myself up, or whether it is Mark you’re after.”

“I do not believe that was an answer, Johnny,” Donghyuck says lightly. This game is new, but the patterns, the _roles,_ are familiar. The dance is the same as ever.

“Indeed,” Johnny echoes. He considers Donghyuck for a beat, and leans forward, pulling his hands from the blanket and resting them on his knees instead. “Mark and I do speak of you, on occasion, though I would not call it something as simple as gossip.”

“Well, what sort of things do you say about me?”

“Ah, I’m afraid you asked only whether we do speak of you, not what those conversations are about beyond that,” Johnny says.

Donghyuck opens his mouth to counter, but Johnny is correct. Donghyuck says nothing, and in closing his mouth, admits silent retreat.

“And I believe you have an answer for me as well?” Johnny says. The smile on his face is not one of satisfaction at beating Donghyuck’s game, but apparent delight at merely playing it with him.

“Yes,” Donghyuck sighs. “You are correct. It is...perhaps...not as entirely unreasonable to race by foot as I had argued.”

Johnny’s grin turns brilliant. He seems to glow in the sunlight. “So...shall we?”

Donghyuck lets out another breath. He still does not think there is a chance he will be able to beat Johnny, but who would he be not to try? “If it will make you happy.”

Johnny’s face does something strange then, surprise appearing to flicker over his features. A trick of the light, perhaps. He nods, and pushes himself to his feet. As Donghyuck moves to do the same, Johnny offers a hand to him.

Donghyuck looks from Johnny’s face, to his hand, and back to his face. Unspoken words bubble up within him, tickling his throat, but they remain just that—unspoken. Donghyuck accepts Johnny’s hand and lets Johnny pull him up to his feet. He says nothing but his thanks.

Johnny lets go as soon as Donghyuck is upright and balanced. Together, they look out at the field. It seems much larger now that they mean to cross it by foot rather than by horse. Donghyuck decides that it is a good thing. He may not be able to fly through the wind if he is not on horseback, but his body and soul itch to move, to be let loose, to run wild. This will certainly let him do just that. Perhaps he will be so tired by the end that the desire will be satiated and he may be left in peace. He hopes this will be the case.

“I hope you know,” he says as Johnny shifts his weight beside him, “that when you win, you will be proving me right.”

“It is not like you to sound so confident you will lose,” Johnny notes.

“On the contrary,” Donghyuck says, “I am certain I will win this debate.”

“Oh, of course.” Johnny speaks like he should have known this all along. “You do prefer challenges of the mind over those of the body, don’t you?”

“Exactly,” Donghyuck says. He knows where his strengths lie, just as Johnny clearly knows his. 

“Well, then all that’s left to do is race and prove it.”

“Of course,” Donghyuck echoes. He begins to walk towards where they usually begin their races. “Same as with the horses?”

“That does seem reasonable,” Johnny says, following closely after. 

It doesn’t take long to reach the strip of beaten down grass, but it warms Donghyuck up, gets his blood flowing. Anticipation and adrenaline swim just beneath his skin, and he bounces on the balls of his feet for the few seconds it takes Johnny to settle beside him. 

Donghyuck rolls his shoulders and gazes across the field. The opposite treeline seems even farther away than it had a minute ago, but he is determined. He considers shrugging off his jacket, but it’s too late. It’s suitable for riding, yes, but it is still a fine piece of work; he can’t just toss it into the dirt. He allows himself a moment to scold himself for not thinking of shedding it on the blanket, then moves on. He sets his eyes on the finish line.

“To the trees?”

“Yes,” Johnny says, his voice set with resolve. 

Donghyuck’s eyes flicker to him of their own accord. Johnny’s face is set and determined as well. He has matched Donghyuck’s energy to a tee. 

“Would you like the honor?” Donghyuck asks, facing forward again. He still sees Johnny nod out of the corner of his eye.

“On three,” Johnny says. 

Donghyuck nods. He balances his weight, tenses his muscles. He may not win, but he’s determined to make the race as close as possible. He’s ready to run.

“One, two, _three.”_

Donghyuck’s boots dig into the ground and he springs into motion. His breaths come hard and heavy and his arms swing at his sides, pushing him forward. There’s dirt and wild grass underfoot, and it slows Donghyuck, but it slows Johnny as well. Donghyuck can’t afford to distract himself with offering even a fraction of his focus to Johnny, but he can still see him to his left, just ahead. He doesn’t have as great a lead as Donghyuck had expected, but perhaps he’s saving his strength.

Donghyuck runs as hard as he can, uncaring of how exhausted he’ll be at the finish line. He has something to prove, something inside of him trying desperately to burst from him. This is the closest he can get to satisfaction now. So he runs and runs, heart pounding, lungs burning, the impact of each footfall shooting up his legs and reminding him that he is human and alive and _living._

The forest had seemed impossibly far away before, but with every passing second Donghyuck draws closer to the wall of trees. The world shakes around him, and he shakes with it. This is a different thrill from riding. This is something even more visceral. Donghyuck wonders why they’ve never tried this before. 

The wind whips at his face and catches in his jacket, and he wishes he’d taken it off before. The grasses grow taller and wilder in the middle of the field, and they come up nearly to his knees so it feels like he’s wading through a sea of green. His focus shifts from moving as fast as possible to moving without stumbling. For a minute, he worries the grasses may wrap around his ankles and trip him, but the worst that befalls him is a sharp decrease in speed.

It is here that he curses Johnny for his longer legs, because this is where Johnny finds his true advantage. By the time they have made it through the thickest patch of grasses, Johnny has cemented a lead Donghyuck knows he will not be able to fight. He continues running regardless, pushing himself as hard as he can. His breaths are loud in his ears, nearly in sync with the pounding of his heart.

Johnny reaches the treeline and turns to watch Donghyuck race after him. Just a few seconds later, Donghyuck practically dives into the nearest tree and wraps himself around it, entirely out of breath. “Told you,” he gasps into the bark. When he finds the strength to lift his eyes to Johnny, he finds him leaning back against a tree, arms folded behind his head. He looks like he’s trying to appear casual, but Donghyuck can see his chest heaving as well.

“So you did,” Johnny says, short of breath. “Are you happy?”

“Are you?” Donghyuck counters.

Johnny grins. He’s sweating and his skin shines where a spot of light hits him through the leaves. “I am.”

Donghyuck lets out a heavy breath and drags another in. The racing of his heart is calming, and the itching, clawing feeling in his chest has settled. He’s worn himself out. He’s satiated, for now. Why has he never tried this before?

“And?” Johnny asks.

“And?” Donghyuck echoes.

“Are you? Happy?”

Donghyuck nods. The tree bark scrapes his hands as he pushes away, but he keeps nodding. “Yes. But this does not count to our existing record. We’ll have to start a new one for foot races.”

Johnny quirks a brow. “So you liked it enough to want another go?”

Donghyuck puffs out his chest before deflating because he still hasn’t quite caught his breath. “Of course. We’ll have to keep at it until I beat you.”

Johnny laughs, curling away from the tree, his hands falling down to his sides. “Of course.”

“I’m sure you will find it less amusing once I figure out how to best you all on my own,” Donghyuck says, though the sight of Johnny laughing… well, he doesn’t hate it.

“I’m sure I will,” Johnny says. “But I look forward to it.”

There’s something about the honesty in Johnny’s voice that makes Donghyuck’s insides squirm. He shifts his weight from one foot to the other, glancing across the field to where they’ve left the horses and their things. It seems even father now that he knows just how much it takes to cross, and he has notably less energy now than he had before crossing it once. 

A small war breaks out within him; all of a sudden he feels he must keep moving, keep running, but he does not have the energy for it yet. Donghyuck isn’t entirely sure what to do if he cannot fly away. Isn’t entirely sure he _can_ sit with this feeling and not be eaten alive by it. But he’s not confident that he can make it back to their horses right now either, so it seems he may have to take his chances, might have to stop trying to outpace this feeling that always catches up to him no matter how far or how long he runs. 

Donghyuck might have to find out what happens when he lets the feeling catch him. He fears it may swallow him whole.

“I’m starting to think we should have walked across first to warm up and then run back. Then I could by lying on our blanket again now,” he sighs, looking down at the ground beneath him.

“Ah, yes, I can see how that would have been smarter,” Johnny says. When Donghyuck looks up again, Johnny is watching him. “Are you very tired?”

Donghyuck crosses his arms over his chest. “Are you not?”

Johnny shrugs, and Donghyuck huffs. 

“Do you mean to tell me you weren’t even running your hardest?”

“Oh, no, I most certainly was,” Johnny says. “It’s likely that I am just more used to this sort of thing and can recover quicker.”

Donghyuck sighs. Of course he had been right; he may be able to partake in games like these, but he cannot help the fact that Johnny is quite literally built for this, while he is not. Of course it would take more out of him than out of Johnny. “Well, I did predict this, did I not?”

Johnny offers a wry smile. “So it would seem.”

Donghyuck leans back against his tree again, arms still crossed. “Well, I’m not crossing back just yet. I need more time to rest.”

“Whatever you need,” Johnny says easily. “Mind how long we wait, though. We will lose the light on our way back if we linger too long before heading out even further.”

Donghyuck nods. The sun is still high over them now, but they are not quite to the longest days of summer yet, and the sun will start to sink sooner than Donghyuck would like. “If you’re that eager to leave, and still have enough energy to boast, you could always just carry me across,” he jokes. It’s venturing a bit farther than usual, but he’s been loosened by the run, by the flood of endorphins and subsequent wave of exhaustion. He figures it’s still a safe enough thing to say.

Perhaps the exhaustion has meddled with his mind. A moment after the words leave his lips, he realizes they had not been as safe as he’d presumed. 

Johnny has a contemplative look on his face, and he considers Donghyuck. All of a sudden, Donghyuck’s arms across his chest feel like a shield, like the only thing between the two of them. He resists the urge to fidget as Johnny looks at him,

“I can, if you wish,” Johnny says after a beat of careful consideration. 

“What?” Donghyuck says, voice nearly a squeak. 

“If you would like me to carry you back, I can. I will.” 

Donghyuck rakes his eyes over Johnny’s face, looking for any traces of the humor he expects to see. He finds none. Johnny is serious.

Donghyuck’s throat tightens and he is silent for a long moment. Frozen, staring at Johnny. After what feels like waiting for ice caught between his teeth to melt, Donghyuck manages to cough out a laugh. “Don’t be silly,” he says, hoping the strain in his voice isn’t obvious.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Johnny says, finally with that spark of humor back in his demeanor. 

“Good,” Donghyuck says, finding his internal balance again. “I would never want to hurt you. For my own gain or otherwise.” 

Johnny tilts his head. “What makes you believe you would hurt me?”

Donghyuck stares at him. “It is quite a feat to carry a grown man.”

“Ah.” Johnny smiles. “You do not think I am strong enough.”

Donghyuck’s mouth opens and nothing comes out. They have strayed so far off the script he does not know what he is meant to say. In something verging on panic, he turns to the truth. “That is not… I do not doubt your strength,” he says. He’s seen Johnny carry things in the stables and on the grounds that would likely crush him if he were to try himself; he knows there’s great strength hidden away under the clothes covering Johnny’s body.

“Then I fail to see how you have come to this conclusion that I would be hurt by what I have offered.”

Donghyuck shifts his weight, fighting the urge to look away. He huffs again to buy himself time, then pushes his shoulders back and lets his hands fall to his sides. “It would just be undignified. I am perfectly capable of walking on my own.”

“As you wish, my prince,” Johnny says with a dip of his head. “Shall we rest?”

Donghyuck shakes his head. He can’t imagine sitting now. Can’t imaging stewing in this. The need to move wins over the fatigue wearing him down. “Debating gave me energy,” he says. It is not a lie, but it is not the whole truth. The whole truth is something Donghyuck rarely gives. 

The whole truth is not allowed.

“That is very like you,” Johnny says with a light laugh. He sweeps an arm forward and takes a step towards Donghyuck. “Lead the way?”

“So you can outpace me even when I get a headstart?” Donghyuck teases as he starts walking. The distance to their horses is still great, but he’ll just take it one step at a time. If he thinks of it that way, it seems less daunting, less overwhelming.

“You think so little of me,” Johnny says in a tone that lets Donghyuck know he’s not serious, just playing around. He does indeed draw even with Donghyuck in no time at all, but he does not break pace with him. Johnny stays right at Donghyuck’s side, and slowly, they make their way across the stretch of field together again. 

Donghyuck is not out of breath as they walk, but he doesn't feel far from it. His training and games have prepared him for short bursts of energy and exertion followed by proper rest before doing anything more—he is not as accustomed to anything this drawn out. There is a part of him that would very much like to simply be carried the rest of the way, and a seperate part of him that merely wishes to feel for himself just how strong Johnny really is. But these wants must be snuffed out while they are still small lest they have the chance to grow, so Donghyuck continues drudging through the tall grass.

Halfway across the field, they reach the thickest and wildest stretch again. Bright flowers twist and weave through the grass and weeds, and as beautiful as it is, Donghyuck forgets his fears from before. Forgets that this tall, messy growth is a tripping hazard. He’s so focused on his thoughts of Johnny throwing an unexpected twirl into their dance that he doesn’t pay enough attention to where his feet land.

Donghyuck takes a step, plants his boot in the ground, and when he moves to take another, he finds his ankle caught in a matted chunk of wildflowers. The realization hits him a moment too late, and by then he has already lost his balance. Donghyuck makes a sharp sound of surprise as he tips forward, bracing himself for an impromptu meeting with the ground. 

But quick as lightning, before Donghyuck gets the chance to tumble all the way to the grass, Johnny steps forward and catches Donghyuck in his arms so he falls not to the ground, but the short distance to Johnny’s chest. 

Donghyuck makes another startled sound, this time muffled in the fabric of Johnny’s shirt. Johnny’s arms are around him, holding him steady. Holding him _close._ Donghyuck is right up against him, hands splayed against his chest because he’d been prepared to catch himself on the _ground,_ not on Johnny’s body. He’d been expecting pain, but this…

“Are you all right?” Johnny asks. Donghyuck barely registers the words. His voice is so close. _He_ is so close.

Donghyuck pushes himself back as quickly as he can. He’s barely regained his balance, so he sways a bit, but he is determined not to let himself fall. Though it feels like every last inch of him wants nothing more than to lean back into Johnny’s arms, he stays right where he is, a safe distance away. “I’m fine,” he says, eyes on the far treeline rather than meeting Johnny’s. “Thank you.”

“Of course,” Johnny nods. The movement draws Donghyuck’s traitorous eyes back to him, and there’s a look on Johnny’s face that he can’t quite decipher.

“Lucky that didn’t happen when we were racing,” Donghyuck notes, moving to sidestep Johnny and continue on his way. As soon as he puts weight on his leg, though, it becomes apparent that he is not, in fact, as fine as he’d said. There’s a spark of pain in his ankle and it rolls under him, sending him teetering to the side again. Donghyuck throws his arms out for balance, and catches himself on Johnny once again.

This time, Donghyuck keeps his grip on Johnny’s arm as he shifts all his weight to his good leg. He says nothing, looking resolutely ahead, and for a moment, Johnny stays silent as well. 

“Are you sure you do not want me to carry you?” Johnny asks after the long pause. 

Donghyuck swallows, looking ruefully across the field. He doesn’t think that his ankle is too badly twisted, but it might end up much worse for wear if he tries to walk the rest of the way to the horses. His trainer would have his head for that, and Donghyuck would quite like to keep his head, thank you very much. That means… 

“I suppose,” Donghyuck sighs, “if you are truly willing to, you may.” 

“I am. It is my duty to ensure you return home safe and sound,” Johnny says, as if he needs to further justify his offer.

“I know, I know.” Donghyuck shakes his head. “Let’s not waste any more time, then.”

“As you wish.” Johnny steps closer, and the next thing Donghyuck knows, he’s being scooped up into Johnny’s arms, cradled against his chest. 

Donghyuck makes a very undignified noise and clutches at Johnny’s neck and shoulder. “What are you doing?” he all but squeaks.

“Carrying you,” Johnny says as if this should be perfectly clear.

“Oh. I…” Donghyuck scrambles to find the words he wants, but it feels as though his whole mind has been spun into disarray. Johnny is holding him bridal style like it’s nothing at all, and his face is so close now that when he looks at Donghyuck, the rest of the world seems to fall away. Everything narrows down to just his face, his eyes, his arms around Donghyuck and his body against him. 

This is infinitely more dangerous than a twisted ankle.

“I thought you meant to carry me on your back,” Donghyuck says. It comes out far too weak.

Johnny tilts his head like he had not considered this.

“How will you see where to step so you don’t fall if I am blocking your view?” Donghyuck asks, strength returning to his voice.

Johnny hums, “I suppose you have a point, my prince.”

“I often do,” Donghyuck says, because this back and forth is much more familiar to him than the feeling of Johnny holding him, and there is safety in familiarity. If Donghyuck focuses on their words, perhaps he will be able to ignore the feeling surging in his chest, clawing at his ribs with a frantic urgency now. Perhaps denial will save him from the pain.

“Let’s try again, then.” Johnny bends his knees and sets Donghyuck carefully back onto his feet, before turning and letting Donghyuck climb onto his back. When Johnny straightens, Donghyuck’s arms are wrapped around his neck, and Johnny holds Donghyuck under the thighs to keep him steady. It is still strange, still spurs on the awful feeling locked in Donghyuck’s chest, but it keeps Donghyuck’s face out of Johnny’s view, and Johnny’s face out of Donghyuck’s. That must be enough.

“Is this okay?” Johnny asks.

“Yes,” Donghyuck answers, because there is nothing else he can say.

“All right,” Johnny nods. He begins to move, picking his way carefully through the weeds. 

Neither of them speak as he walks, and when the wind does not blow, all Donghyuck can hear is the sound of their breathing and the drum of his own heartbeat in his ears. He wants to fill the air with something, _anything_ else, but every time he tries to start a conversation, the words get stuck in his throat. There is nothing to distract him from the feeling off Johnny’s back pressed against his chest, Johnny’s hands holding his legs. He wants to fall into the feeling, wants to get back to their blanket and lie down and have Johnny keep touching him like this. He knows he should not – _cannot_ – want this. 

It is unbearable.

The distance to their horses feels like an ocean, and Johnny is so careful as he walks that their pace is slower than ever. Donghyuck wonders when this will end. He never wants it to. He needs it to stop this very second. He can’t get enough, and yet he knows he cannot take any more. It feels like he is at war with his own mind, his own heart, tearing himself apart at the seams.

When they finally reach the blanket on the ground, Donghyuck is nearly ready to jump right off Johnny’s back. He stops himself only because he knows that hurting his ankle now would simply make the whole journey a waste, a needless torment. So, instead of running, Donghyuck waits for Johnny’s hold on his thighs to loosen, and then slides gingerly off his back to stand beside him.

Johnny scoops their water up from the blanket and takes a drink before passing it to Donghyuck so he can quench his thirst as well. When he’s done, Donghyuck hands it back to Johnny.

“I can gather up our things now so we can start heading back,” Johnny offers, already kneeling at the blanket’s edge.

Donghyuck shakes his jacket off, looping the arms around his neck and grimacing at the sweat on his skin that had not dried during the trek back and instead gotten worse. “I thought we were going to ride out some more?”

Johnny pauses, one corner of the picnic blanket now in his hands, and glances up at Donghyuck. “Forgive me, I assumed you would want to return home and see the court physician for your ankle.”

Ah. Of course. That would be the sensible thing to do. Donghyuck knows this, but he has spent all his energy trying to be sensible about _other_ things, and now he craves the rush of flying away more than ever. Needs something to soothe the burning under his skin, to tame the beast beneath his ribs.

“I don’t think a little extra riding will hurt my ankle any more,” Donghyuck says, “and I am not in the mood to return just yet.” _I do not wish to lock myself back in that cage so soon after escaping._

“I see,” Johnny says, returning to the task of folding the blanket. “As you wish, my prince.”

Donghyuck takes an experimental step forward, careful to favor his good leg. The pain in his ankle is dull this time, irritated by the pressure of his weight, but not screaming. He is able to walk the short distance to untie his horse from the nearest tree and return to her side. “Thank you,” he says without turning to face Johnny. He does not want to risk seeing whatever look might be on his face.

Johnny hums in response, and as Donghyuck hoists himself up into the saddle, he sees Johnny circle around him. He has folded the blanket and stuffed it back into the travel sack along with the satchel of food and water, and, it seems, his jacket. 

Donghyuck, still sweating, thumbs at his own jacket tied around his shoulders. “Is there room for one more in there?”

Johnny looks up at him as he comes to a stop beside his mare. “Your jacket?”

Donghyuck nods. He knows he might want it back before they return to the palace, but for now he wants it gone so he can cool down, and so he can bring his horse to a gallop without worrying about it flying off his shoulders. Johnny eyes the bag for a moment before nodding. He lifts a hand, and Donghyuck pulls his jacket off and tosses it down. 

A minute later, the jacket is packed away safely, and Johnny has secured the bag and untied and mounted his horse. Aside from the tamped down grass, there is no evidence they had even been here. It is as though their time together does not even exist outside of memory. Donghyuck does not know whether this realization is a relief – for there is no proof left behind to use against him – or something as devastating as a garden reduced to mud and rubble by a storm. He does not let himself think about it long enough to find out.

“Where do you wish to go, my prince?” Johnny asks when Donghyuck does not immediately lead the way.

Donghyuck shakes himself from his thoughts and sets his gaze ahead. He looks all the way to the skyline and wonders how far they would have to ride for him to see beyond that. For him to see all the way to the very edge of the world. “I still do not know,” he admits with a wry laugh. “Shall we just _go_ and find out?”

Glancing at Johnny, Donghyuck sees him nod. “I will follow wherever you lead me,” Johnny tells him. He’s no longer as close as he’d been before, but somehow, Donghyuck finds he can still make out the certainty in his eyes, the calm sort of acceptance smoothing over his features. This is simply the way things are. This is how they will always be.

Donghyuck looks away, swallowing down everything that tries to rise up his throat. A light shiver tickles down his spine, and heat pools under his skin all over again. Donghyuck is still sweating as he nudges his horse into motion, setting a course towards the far trees. The forest there is a bit wilder, bordered by a river to the left. Donghyuck hopes heading that way might give the wild thing within him a temporary home. 

Crossing the field a fifth time, Donghyuck can’t help wondering if this is just another cage he has let himself into. All this time spent going back and forth within the confines of the wooded walls, it occurs to him that this is the sort of thing done by animals in pens. It feels right, then, to cross the wild grasses and continue onward, to weave through trees that are not maintained or monitored by palace staff. It feels like Donghyuck is breaking free of something, and the deeper they ride into the woods, the more Donghyuck wonders how he will be able to force himself to head back.

Donghyuck veers left when the trees begin to thicken, and soon he can hear the faint sound of the far off river drawing ever-closer. It is surprisingly quiet. The woods are alive and buzzing, of course, but Johnny has said little since they ventured past the field, and Donghyuck has been so caught up in his own head that he doesn’t have much to say either. He does not think that _“do you suppose I am like this horse: safe and sheltered and yet stripped of free will and held entirely under the control of the royalty that has put me in such a comfortable home?”_ would be a good conversation starter. 

Sunlight flickers in and out under the canopy, and Donghyuck supposes he shouldn’t be so negative. He is, after all, exercising free will even now as he mourns the lack of it. Just because he has restraints and limits to his will does not mean he has none. He should be more grateful, especially in Johnny’s company.

“Do you think the river will have calmed by now?” he asks to finally break the silence. It had poured down rain a few days earlier, and there had been word of some flooding in the lower, unpopulated parts of the land. It has been dry long enough now for the waters to recede, but Donghyuck suspects there may still be stronger currents than usual, and this is why they can hear the river even from so far away.

“Oh, yes,” Johnny answers, “enough time has passed. I do think the river might still be a bit swollen, though. Do you intend to go all the way to it?”

Donghyuck nods. “I thought it would be a good finish line—something definitive we could reach before turning back.”

“That seems reasonable,” Johnny agrees.

Donghyuck smiles, pleased. They fall back into easy conversation from there. It’s nothing of any real importance, but it is always nice to talk with Johnny, and it passes the time, fills the air with something warm as Donghyuck’s sweat finally dries to his skin and he no longer feels too hot in the late spring breeze.

The trees start to thin, and the sound of the river grows from a murmur to something Donghyuck must speak over in order to be heard. The shuffling of small animals on the forest floor is drowned out, and even the birds overhead sound quieter as Donghyuck and Johnny finally emerge from the tapering off edge of the woods to find a small ledge overlooking the river below.

Donghyuck is careful not to stray too close to the edge, because although it is not a great drop from there to the river, the distance still makes him uneasy. He’d be a fool not to recognize the potential for danger.

“It’s like you said,” Donghyuck notes, “the river does look a bit angry.”

“Not too bad, though,” Johnny says, peering down. “Just muddy banks. It looks like the water has mostly settled.”

Donghyuck nods. He looks down at the water and finds himself thinking that perhaps later in the year, when the heat of summer has truly set in, the two of them should ride to the gentle stretch of river upstream that cuts through the outskirts of the palace grounds. He thinks it might be nice to play in the slow, shallow waters after one of their races or games. Donghyuck always wanted to play there as a child, but his parents had worried as they always did, and had only permitted him to get in the water with attendants all around. He had learned to swim, but he had not been permitted to play. 

A handful of times, he had convinced Taeyong or Yubin to take him for fun, but once Taeyong began his military training in earnest and Yubin began spending more time away from the palace than within it, even those rare hours of play had gone away. 

If today’s trip had not already pushed far too many boundaries for Donghyuck’s comfort, he might voice this thought. As is, though, he decides that perhaps it will have to wait. He will confess this desire later, in a safer moment, sometime when – he hopes – he has forgotten the feelings that have taken told of him in the last few hours. 

Donghyuck’s horse grows antsy, and he runs a hand down dark, coarse hair in apology for how much he’s asked for today. Letting out a breath, he decides he cannot delay the inevitable any longer. At least it will still be a long ride back to the palace before the monotonous drone of his life sinks back in. 

“We should probably head back now so we don’t—”

Before Donghyuck can say anything about losing the light and tempting fate, something rustles in the underbrush right below him and his horse spooks.

It happens too quickly for Donghyuck to process. His horse darts back, hooves sliding in the soft ground, and then bolts for the trees. Donghyuck doesn’t have time to grab hold of anything to keep himself secure, so his horse goes running and he _doesn’t._

He hears Johnny shout, but doesn’t realize he’s falling until right before he hits the ground. He just barely manages to tuck and roll so he doesn’t break anything when he kisses the dirt. It’s a miracle he doesn’t hit his head or land on his ankle, and his arms and knees sink into the loose dirt and cushion the fall as he rolls. Donghyuck sees gray for a moment, but it’s more the shock and the air rushing out of his lungs than anything else.

Donghyuck digs his hands into the ground and pushes himself up so he’s sitting, blinking until his vision returns. Just a meter to his right, rising in the grass by the edge of the woods, he sees what startled his horse. 

“Johnny,” he says weakly, “you should probably stay back.”

Johnny sees it a moment after Donghyuck does, and if Donghyuck could tear his eyes away from the snake staring him down, he’d see Johnny blanch, knuckles white on the reins of his horse. 

“I can’t tell if it’s venomous,” Donghyuck says, inching backwards, “but I don’t really want to find out.” Maybe if he backs up enough he can circle around and join Johnny off to the left, get on his horse and get somewhere safer where they can start tracking down his runaway steed. 

“Come this way,” Johnny says, voice tight. “Slowly. It’s probably harmless.”

 _Probably._ Donghyuck is hoping that’s the case. 

If not for the rushing of the river below the edge of the ridge, everything would be so still and silent that Donghyuck thinks he’d be able to hear his own heart pounding in his chest. He scoots further away, waiting to see if the snake will drop back to the ground and slither away. His fingers sink into the soft dirt behind him and he inches back again, barely breathing. The snake lowers itself slowly down into the grass, but its beady eyes still stare straight ahead. It starts to move, and Donghyuck digs his heels into the ground and pushes himself even further back.

“This way,” Johnny says again, more urgent this time. “You’re too close to—”

The pliant ground beneath Donghyuck’s hands crumbles and gives way. 

Donghyuck loses his balance as the edge of the ridge drops off into the river, and he nearly tips over backwards along with it. Johnny shouts again, but Donghyuck barely hears it as he scrambles for purchase on the remaining ground so he doesn’t follow the crumbling mass of dirt down to the water. 

Donghyuck’s shifting weight just makes things worse, though. Once the ridge starts breaking apart, it doesn’t stop. Donghyuck forgets all about the snake in his hurry to reach solid ground. He gets to his hands and knees before the ground under his legs gives way, and all the air rushes out of his lungs a second time as he starts to slip.

_“Donghyuck!”_

All of a sudden Johnny is there, on his knees and reaching for Donghyuck. He fists Donghyuck’s collar in one hand and grabs his arm in another, pulling like the world is depending on his strength and not just one man. He gets a good grip on Donghyuck, tugs him nearly back over the edge, but the ridge is still falling apart, and Johnny’s added weight doesn’t help slow the process. 

Donghyuck tries to shake his head, tries to warn Johnny, to get him away from the edge before it takes them both, but he can’t get the words out. Johnny’s grip is so tight on his arms that maybe it doesn’t matter—he wouldn’t listen anyway. 

And then it’s too late. The ground crumbles under Donghyuck and he finally falls. 

Johnny still doesn’t let go. He topples over the edge along with Donghyuck. 

For a split second, there’s nothing but the rush of wind in Donghyuck’s ears and a flash of the clear blue sky overhead. He clings to Johnny, bracing for impact, and Johnny wraps his body around Donghyuck. 

They hit the water.


End file.
